Two Nights in Arcadia
by WildwingSuz
Summary: What happens the first two nights of the episode that we don't see.


**Spoilers:** The entire episode "Arcadia". Pretty much required viewing to understand this story as it happens during the parts that aren't shown in the ep.

**Music Notes:** I wrote this story in four days in a variety of Starbuck's in NYC, mostly the one on Lexington near 53rd. I have no clue how I can concentrate on writing while I've got Sounds of the United Nations conversions going on around me and awesomely eclectic music on the speakers. Regardless, I did this one listening to no particular music except at the end, when I listened to the last three songs on the "Jurassic Park" CD using my earbuds while sitting in the NWA Worldclub at La Guardia while waiting on a delayed flight. Sometimes you do have to get the mood just right.

Author's Notes at the end.

**Two Nights in Arcadia  
**Unrated  
By Suzanne L. Feld

I highly suspected that if Mulder knew how much he really did get on my nerves I'd never get a moment's peace. Hence I only let him see a tiny bit of my honest aggravation because what really drove me nuts about him couldn't be helped. When he whipped off his jacket and the t-shirt went up with it, exposing his broad chest and flat belly, I had to quickly avert my eyes before I outright stared. The man has such an awesome body yet is so blasé and clearly unconcerned with it that it only makes it worse for me.

If he'd had any idea of how desperately I wanted to join him when he sprawled out on the bed I'm sure I'd have been on my back before I drew another breath; being a cranky, crabby bitch and wearing my ugliest mud mask was my best defense.

But when I fell over his big gym shoes at the foot of _my_ bed and found his dirty jacket among the covers, stinking of the garbage he'd been crawling in, I really got angry. I knew that this was his way of getting to me—and it worked. I snatched up the jacket and shoes and marched out into the hall and down to the next door, which was the guest room where Mulder slept. Without thinking about it I flung the door open, threw the shoes and jacket inside blindly and snapped, "I don't know what the hell you think… you're… um, doing…"

As my words sputtered to a stop, my brain was almost unbelievably processing what it was seeing. Mulder was standing in front of me totally, gloriously, stark raving naked. Not a stitch of clothing marred that long, lean frame, not so much as a sock. He must have been getting undressed to shower or change into the sweats he wore in lieu of pajamas, I thought dazedly. He was facing me just a few feet away, head cocked and eyebrows raised. Just the bedside lamp was on but it was plenty to see by and I drank in the sight.

He didn't cover himself, just stared back at me quizzically. "Scully…?" he finally said, putting his hands on his hips. "You all right?"

"I, um, yeah," I managed to say, but could not stop staring at him for the life of me. Some part of my brain was aghast at what I was doing but it was crushed beneath the weight of my appreciation for that lean, masculine body, the likes of which I hadn't seen this closely in far too long. Of course I had seen Mulder naked more than once before—I _am_ his doctor—but not quite like this. Jesus, no, not like _this_. Instead of being passed out unconscious or sleeping or curled up in a steaming tub or hurt in some way or another he was just standing there looking back at me, clearly unconcerned with his state of undress, a quizzical look on his face. The seconds ticking by as I stared and he let me.

My body responded to the sight of his like a sponge placed in water, filling with arousal. In some part of the back of my mind I catalogued all the symptoms clinically: my heart was beating faster, spreading blood to certain parts of my body quicker. My breathing also sped up while my breasts swelled, the nipples tightening. Secretions were occurring both inside and outside my vagina, the labia flattening and opening while, due to a rush of blood there, I felt a tingling warmth and swelling. Despite my clinical detachment I realized that I had not been this aroused before in my entire life and it was all I could do not to leap physically at the object of my sudden and powerful desire.

Finally he reached over and picked up his sweatpants from the end of the bed, sliding those big feet and long legs into them and pulling them up over the part of him that was, I suddenly realized, starting to come alive. It was also what my eyes had come to rest on and stayed there until he covered himself. That was what finally snapped me out of my weird daze and, my face flaming, I bolted back to the safety of my room.

Within moments Mulder was knocking on the closed double doors. Of course I had locked them; there was no way I could face him. Oh, God, I thought, to make things even worse there was tomorrow to deal with! We were here until this case was solved and nowhere near doing so at this point. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw that I still had my avocado face mask on. That _really_ cemented my wonderful evening so far.

"Scully? Listen, I'm sorry, I should have covered up, you just surprised me."

_He_ was apologizing to _me_? That put a whole new spin on things and calmed my humiliation a bit. Still, I didn't dare open the doors; with the sudden state of arousal I was in, I was certain I'd make an utter fool out of myself. I'd been able to hold myself in check for a long time but when I got aroused, I got _aroused_—especially after such a long drought. And right this moment my body was on red alert. "It's okay, Mulder, I was startled and surprised too—let's just head off to bed, we've got a long day tomorrow," I called back through the door, leaning against it with my forehead resting against the cool wood.

"I think we need to talk about this," he said, and I jerked back—his head must have been right on the other side of the doors for his voice to be so close. "Did you bring any teabags?"

"Teabags?" I had no clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, we could sit downstairs and have a cup of tea, and talk," he said. "I'm not sleepy anyway."

"I'm exhausted and off to bed," I told him, moving away from the doors. "We can talk tomorrow." I dropped my robe on the foot of the bed and it was then that I saw that I was shaking; anger hit when I realized just how much he affected me. Still, I threw the covers back, climbed in, and had reached up to turn off the light when I realized that I hadn't washed off the avocado-mud mask. It wasn't the kind that could be slept in so I swung my legs back out of bed and went to the bathroom.

Take three on getting into bed seemed to be the charmed one. I turned off the lamp and lay staring up at the ceiling, mulling over how I had stared at him and what in Heaven's name he might be thinking about it. And although I wasn't one to masturbate at the drop of a hat—like Mulder!—I thought it might be a good idea now to calm me down. Besides the sexual part, masturbation and orgasm are good to distract and relax and doing so would help me sleep. Better than a cup of tea, I snickered to myself.

But just as I was about to reach down under the covers something caught my eye and I saw a dark shape coming out of the bathroom. Before I could react, however, I recognized Mulder's familiar outline and spiky hair and he said, "Scully, you asleep yet?"

I got up on one elbow, surprised that I wasn't feeling outraged or angry but even more aroused, dangerously with him so close. "No… how'd you get in here, Mulder?"

"Connecting door in the bathroom. Can we talk for a moment?'

"As long as it's just talk, sure," I said, scooting back, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. I reached for the light but a warm hand on my arm stopped me as Mulder sat down on the side of the bed near my knees. Dear God, he wasn't wearing a shirt although, thankfully, he did still have his sweats on. His wide bare shoulders gleamed in the dim light, and had I been standing my knees would have gone weak.

"Leave the light off, Scully, it might make this easier."

I looked at him with narrowed eyes but pulled my arm back as he let go of it. "Make what easier?" I asked warily.

"What I need to tell you. Scully, all my goofing around is just to hide… how much I feel for you," he said all of a sudden, the words all but running over each other. "Jesus, you are everything I ever wanted in a woman and the one woman I can't have. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but I can't keep it in any longer," he said, putting his head in his hands, elbows on knees. "I wasn't kidding when I told you I love you, but I know you don't feel the same way about me."

"Mulder…" I started and then reconsidered. As much as I wanted to admit to my strong feelings for him I knew it would be a mistake of monumental proportions. If he knew I felt the same for him as he felt for me, who knew what would happen tonight and I didn't want that. Not yet, anyway.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, Scully, I'll go," he said, rising.

I reached out and caught his big warm hand, not tugging him back but simply holding it. "Mulder, this isn't something we should be talking about right now but let's not let it—or anything that's happened tonight—come between us, okay?" I said. "I'm sorry I… barged in like that."

He gave me a crooked smile. "I didn't mind—and hopefully I can return the favor sometime."

I couldn't help giving him a close-mouthed smile in return as I let go of his hand. "Good luck with that," I said, keeping the tone light just like he had. "I keep my doors locked around you—when I know where all the locks are, that is."

He chuckled then sobered, reached down and gently traced my bottom lip with his thumb, his touch so light it was barely discernable. I could just see his face and the look on it gave me a jolt that went from my heart to my belly like an electric shock. "I really do love you, Scully, you know that," he said softly. "As my best friend… and more. And when feel you can… well…" he shrugged, the muscles in his bare torso rippling and gleaming in the darkness, "… just let me know. I'll be waiting."

He moved away and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me with my lip tingling from his gentle touch and my heart pounding. I slid down under the covers again but this time curled on my side, gazing at the dark empty doorway he'd disappeared through and wishing I dared to call him back or go to him so that we could finish out this night together. But I knew it wasn't to be and although it took a long time, eventually I did doze off. My mind was going so fast I totally forgot about what I had been about to do when Mulder walked in. But then it was no longer just my body that was excited—it was my mind. Mulder and I getting together was inevitable; the question was, how long would I wait? How long could I resist was more like it, and at this point why _was_ I? I found no answers to any of those questions but spent much of that night pondering them.

***

Walking away from Scully that night was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life—and I've done my share, that much is for certain. I knew that if I hadn't left when I did last night I wouldn't have been able to. I wanted to believe that unless she invited me I wouldn't make a move on her; I had too much respect for her to do that. However it had been a close thing when I suspected that she wanted me as much as I wanted her yet couldn't let me know it.

Dear God, how I loved and wanted that woman! Day after day with her by my side and then I slept alone with only my magazines and videotapes for company in my lonely apartment. I'd had about enough of it.

As it was I hadn't gotten to sleep for hours and now, later in the afternoon, was groggy and tired. I had spent most of the morning running around from store to store trying to find what I wanted; why was there a dearth of pink flamingos in southern California?

I leaned forward and peered through the beveled glass again; nothing or no one moved on the quiet street and the o.j.-drenched mailbox still shifted to starboard. My mind returned to Scully as I sat back; she'd been up and out of here so early and so fast that I'd barely seen a streak of red hair and dark clothing as I stumbled out of my room half-asleep. She'd called me around noon to let me know that she was staying in San Diego until the tests were done as she'd managed to get them pushed to the front of the line. They should be finished by the end of the day or early evening at the very latest.

Last night, I suspected, I could have had her. If I'd pressed the matter I was pretty damn sure I could have made love to her last night—I'd sworn I could smell her arousal when I sat on the edge of the bed. Just because it's something I haven't smelled in more years than I care to remember doesn't mean I don't recall it.

I remembered the jolt that went through me when Scully burst through the door, throwing my shoes and clothes into the room then stopping dead to stare at me. And stare. And stare. She had seemed to be in a daze; something told me that it had been as long for her as it had for me seeing a naked person of the opposite sex. I had been totally baffled as to what was going on with her until I went to put on my sweats to hide the fact that I couldn't help getting turned on and she bolted out of the room like her ass was on fire—then it had hit me. She wanted me. Or at least seeing a naked man had made her want one, not necessarily me but I was the closest.

But I knew I wanted only her, and had for so many years now that I could barely remember when I _hadn't_ wanted her, fantasized about her, dreamed about her. I was ready to make my move and yet something about her attitude made me hesitate; I got the feeling that if I tried something sexual with her that it would likely be the end of not just our partnership, but our friendship as well. That was the only thing holding me back. I wished she'd just tell me one way or another how she felt about me, yet I was terrified to hear it because I suspected that she didn't see me in a romantic light and all my yearnings were for nothing.

The day dragged by and I ended up taking a two-hour nap on the couch after my mailbox bait didn't work, about bored out of my mind without Scully around. Then I nuked a TV dinner and watched a little tube; it wasn't until well after dark that it hit me to drag out my basketball hoop and play a little to see if that brought any response from the neighbors after the fuss they'd made about it.

Once all the excitement was over and Scully and I were in for the evening, I handed the lab results back to her. "Want to, uh, watch some TV with me?" I said, then added, "Did you eat?"

She leaned over, setting the results on the coffee table next to the shopping bag and then took off her jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. She stepped out of her shoes, pushing them beneath it. "Yeah, I dinner around six though I could use something to nibble on now. Anything left out of that welcome basket?"

We went over to the counter together and dug through what was left and then carried our plunder over to the couch. I used the remote to turn on the TV and turned it down low enough that we could just hear it, but I paid no attention to what was on. It was only an excuse to get us together on the couch and we both knew it.

Scully suddenly leaned over and sniffed at my shoulder. "You washed your jacket today I see."

"Yeah, it was kind of a long, boring day," I said, unwrapping a package of vanilla cream cookies more for something to keep my hands occupied with than because I wanted them. That Hearty Man TV dinner was still with me not to mention the butterflies beginning to dance around in my stomach.

"It smelled pretty bad when you left it on my bed last night—that's why I was so angry when I barged into your room," she said, very intent on opening a small box of Irish soda crackers.

"Yeah, I did crawl around in the sewer a bit," I admitted. Then I chickened out and instead of continuing the subject of last night I said, "I took advantage of the laundry room and washed all my clothes earlier, although all this Izod crap is going to the Salvation Army when we're done here. Ugh."

"I want my old hairstyle back, I hate having to curl it like this every day," she said, sounding relieved, then popped a small cracker with a bit of cheese on it in her mouth.

"I like it, although I think my favorite hairstyle of yours was the way you wore it when we first met," I admitted. "You've got the kind of hair that can be worn long and still look good."

"Well thank you, Mulder," she smiled at me, then got up. "Want something to drink?"

"A Coke, thanks."

"Too bad we didn't bring any alcohol, I could use a real drink," she said from behind me. "I hated wasting that good wine the Shroeders served."

"I know—but we're considered on duty twenty-four-seven when undercover," I sighed. "But you're right, a nice cold beer would go down good right now."

She sat down and handed me a bottle of Diet Pepsi then opened hers. I noted that she sat closer to me than we'd been before but scolded myself for even noticing it; it meant nothing and I knew it. She simply wasn't paying attention. "Who'd know if we did have a drink or two?" she mused, setting down her bottle and reaching for the little box of crackers and tube of cheese again. "And more importantly, who'd care?"

I turned to her, both eyebrows raised. "Are you serious, Scully?"

She turned to me with a defiant look on her face. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I am. It's not like we're out dancing on tables in a sleazy bar, Mulder. A beer or glass of wine isn't going to make us any less able to handle whatever may come up."

I thought of what I'd seen earlier and wasn't sure about that, but I was game especially after she put the dancing on the table picture in my head. "I'll run out and get something, Scully. What do you want?"

"I'll have whatever you do, Mulder. Just nothing too heavy; I don't want to be hungover in the morning since I've got a lot of work to do on the computer tomorrow."

"Your wish is my command," I said, getting up. I hadn't taken off my jacket and now just grabbed my wallet from the kitchen counter where I'd set it earlier on the way past. I wasn't sure what was up with her this evening but I couldn't _wait_ to find out.

***

Mulder returned with a bottle of white Zinfandel for me—only 10.5% alcohol I noted—and a six-pack of Corona for himself. While he was gone I had changed into a pair of comfortable black stretch pants and an oversized sweater and then brushed out my hair so it was back to its normal style. I sat back against one arm of the couch, my legs drawn up and arms wrapped around them, leaving the TV on low. The only light was from the kitchen; I had turned off the bright reading lamp in the corner of the living room.

Butterflies danced in my midsection as Mulder handed me a small tumbler half full of golden liquid saying, "Sorry we don't have any wineglasses—they must have been in the box that Big Mike dropped."

"This does just as well, thanks."

He sat down close to my bare feet, cracking open a beer and tossing the cap on the coffee table. "You look nice, Scully," he said, relaxing back against the cushions. "No face mask tonight?"

I chuckled. "That comes later," I said. "Trust me, I don't let just _anyone_ see me in that." His face was mostly in shadow with the light behind us but I could see his eyes gleaming. He'd taken off his jacket and shoes and wore a dark blue polo shirt and olive khakis. He looked so naturally preppy that if I didn't see him in jeans and t-shirts outside work I'd think this was his normal way of dressing. But then thinking about where he grew up, I realized that it probably was.

"Scully, you still with me?" he said, cocking his head as he gazed over at me. "Where'd you go?"

"I was just thinking that you look very comfortable dressed like that," I said, then took another sip of wine. "Even if you don't really fit in here."

He wrinkled his nose. "It _is_ the costume of my natural habitat, which I'm glad to be away from," he admitted. I wasn't working as an investigator for nothing, I thought with some humor. "At least I live my life as honestly as I can without bullshit around every corner like they do—unless someone throws it at me. And you don't, Scully, I can't tell you how grateful I am for that."

Here was my segue. "Mulder… about last night…"

He held up the hand that didn't have the bottle in it, ducking his head. "Forget it, Scully. I have."

"I don't want to," I said softly, glancing at him to find his full attention now on me. "I couldn't anyway."

"Really? What part?" he asked. Although neither of us moved, I felt we drew closer together.

I took a deep breath silently. "The part where you told me how you felt about me."

He shifted to face me better, drawing one knee up on the couch so that I had to move my feet aside a little. "What, no 'oh brother' this time?" he smiled.

I returned the smile, relieved. "I am sorry about that, Mulder; I thought you were pretty well drugged up and didn't know what you were saying."

"I know. Bad timing," he said, still smiling slightly. "Was, uh, last night any better as far as timing is concerned?"

I knew I'd reached a fork in the road and I had a split second to decide which one to take. "Mulder… I wish I could return your sentiment, I really do, but—"

He leapt up off the couch, beer foaming over the mouth of the bottle as he slammed it down on the coffee table. It was a good thing that this furniture had come from the FBI repo pool and wasn't mine because I'd have kicked his ass for treating my things like that had he done it at my apartment. "Fine, Scully, that's what I thought," he snapped. "Don't worry, I won't bother you again."

I sat there flabbergasted. "What?!" was all I could manage, staring up at him aghast. The change was so sudden and unexpected that it took me totally by surprise.

"You don't love me, I get it, you don't even like me much other than as a co-worker, I get that too. Fine. Whatever. I'll leave you alone from now on."

I jumped to my feet, set my mostly-full glass next to his bottle and grabbed his bare forearm as he started to turn away. "Mulder, you goddamn idiot, let me finish my sentence! I was about to tell you that although I think I feel the same way for you we shouldn't act on it right now."

He stopped, looking back at me, and I let go of his arm. "You mean that, Scully?"

We were both motionless as I looked up at him, our eyes meeting in the dimness. "Yes," I said simply. "I find it difficult to talk about, Mulder, and this is the best I can do for now. Give me time, okay?"

He turned to face me fully, gently enfolding me in his arms. I leaned against him and put my arms around his waist like I so rarely let myself, indulging in his nearness. "Time is one of the few things I have," he said, humor in his voice. "Take all you want. And I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions."

"I'm so confused, Mulder, I never _wanted_ to feel this way for you—we're just too damn different," I said against his shoulder, reveling in the feel of his hard body against mine. "You're my best friend and partner and anything else is just too complicated—I didn't want to deal with it but it's been useless trying."

"I kind of know what you mean but I can't fight what I feel for you any longer, Scully," he said, his breath warm against the top of my head since I wasn't wearing shoes. I fit so perfectly tucked beneath his chin that it was almost amazing. "I didn't mean to or want to fall for you, either. Things were much less complicated before I began to realize how I felt."

"I've always heard that you can't choose who you fall in love with but I never knew how true that was until now," I mused, heaving a sigh. "But then I'm beginning to suspect that I've never really been in love before." Oops—I'd said too much but it was out there and I waited with baited breath for his response.

He kissed the top of my head and then laid his slightly scratchy cheek on it. "Same here," he breathed. "I just can't imagine myself with anyone other than you, Scully. But… not yet."

I jumped on that, remembering my discussion with Sheila Fontaine in Kansas some months ago. "That's exactly how I feel, Mulder—not just yet."

Part of me was deeply relieved at this talk yet another part of me was deeply disappointed; I wished I had the guts to finish out the night with Mulder in my bed. Despite my body's urgings, however, I knew that it was just not a good idea. With our feelings still so new and raw I was fairly sure that even if we enjoyed ourselves—and I knew that we would, no doubt there!—it would make mess of our personal relationship.

He sighed, putting one big hand softly on the back of my head over my hair and stroking it gently, his other arm holding me closer. "But we can enjoy this occasionally, can't we?"

"We can," I affirmed, tightening my arms too. "Even big bad FBI agents can use a hug every now and then."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest against my ear. "And little bad G-women, too?"

I leaned back and grinned up at him, his arm loosening a little but not leaving my shoulders. "This little bad agent is going to kick your ass if you keep it up."

I felt my smile fade as he leaned down towards me, his intent clear. My heart began pounding and the lower half of my body came to full attention yet again as his lips gently brushed mine, then he let go of me and stepped back so unexpectedly that I swayed as his warmth left me feeling bereft. "I'd, uh, better head off to bed, I've got a lot to do tomorrow," he said, turning away.

For a moment I was baffled and hurt, wondering what I'd done, and then it hit me: it wasn't me, it was _him_. I realized that I had felt the beginnings of his physical arousal before he moved away. Once again I was at that insane fork: let him go or ask him to stay? I knew which one was right, but that hadn't always been the road I'd chosen.

He got a few stairs up before turning back, his lower body hidden in the shadows. I was still standing where he'd left me. "I may regret this some day, Scully, but I think I'm doing the right thing by walking away right now," he said in a low husky voice I'd never heard from him before but which caused my body to warm even more. "I'll stay if you want me to, I don't have that much willpower, so it's up to you."

I bit my bottom lip, deeply conflicted. However, honesty had seemed to work well here tonight so I went with it. "I want to, Mulder, God you have _no_ idea how much I want you in my bed. But I think we're right in waiting; before we take that next step I think we need to come to terms with the fact that despite ourselves we're falling in love with each other."

He heaved an audible sigh, but nodded. "And yet… if something happened to one of us tomorrow, how much would we regret walking away tonight?"

I closed my eyes briefly, my heart still pounding so loud I almost couldn't hear him. "Don't _say_ that!"

He shrugged, giving me a crooked grin that I saw clearly despite the darkness and distance between us. "Can't fault a guy for trying, now can you?"

I had to smile in return. "No, but do you really want us to make a mistake tonight that could destroy our friendship entirely? Is a one-night-stand worth it?"

"Put that way, no," he said, his voice still rough and husky. "But I'll be thinking about you tonight, Scully."

I knew exactly what he meant and it sent another jolt winging through me. "Me too," I half-whispered, and was never sure if he heard me or not as he was already moving up the steps. It really didn't matter, though, because _I_ knew. No matter where we went from here or what happened my heart was finally at peace because I no longer had to hide my feelings from him, nor he from me. And if I was ever lucky enough to catch him naked like that again I knew that there would be no awkwardness, no staring, that it would finally be the time we were both waiting for.

_Finis_

**Author's Notes: **This is one that I originally conceived as a smut biscuit but took on a life of its own. They got the bit in their teeth and did what they wanted, not what I'd planned. I ended up staying with canon, though it certainly wasn't easy!


End file.
